chapter 13 the nephew
the new lord edgware’s eye was a quick one. he noticed the slight start i gave.
‘ah! you’ve got it,’ he said amiably. ‘aunt jane’s little supper party. just a shade bottled, wasn’t i? but i fancied it passed quite unperceived.’
poirot was saying goodbye to geraldine marsh and miss carroll.
‘i’ll come down with you,’ said ronald genially.
he led the way down the stairs, talking as he went.
‘rum thing – life. kicked out one day, lord of the manor the next. my late unlamented uncle kicked me out, you know, three years ago. but i expect you know all about that, m. poirot?’
‘i had heard the fact mentioned – yes,’ replied poirot composedly.
‘naturally. a thing of that kind is sure to be dug up. the earnest sleuth can’t afford to miss it.’
he grinned.
then he threw open the dining-room door.
‘have a spot before you go.’
poirot refused. so did i. but the young man mixed himself a drink and continued to talk.
‘here’s to murder,’ he said cheerfully. ‘in the space of one short night i am converted from the credit-or’s despair to the tradesman’s hope. yesterday ruin stared me in the face, today all is affluence. god bless aunt jane.’
he drained his glass. then, with a slight change of manner, he spoke to poirot.
‘seriously, though, m. poirot, what are you doing here? four days ago aunt jane was dramatically declaiming, “who will rid me of this insolent tyrant?” and lo and behold she is ridded! not by your agency, i hope? the perfect crime, by hercule poirot, ex-sleuth hound.’
poirot smiled.
‘i am here this afternoon in answer to a note from miss geraldine marsh.’
‘a discreet answer, eh? no, m. poirot, what are you really doing here? for some reason or other you are interesting yourself in my uncle’s death.’
‘i am always interested in murder, lord edgware.’
‘but you don’t commit it. very cautious. you should teach aunt jane caution. caution and a shade more camouflage. you’ll excuse me calling her aunt jane. it amuses me. did you see her blank face when i did it the other night? hadn’t the foggiest notion who i was.’
‘en verité?’
‘no. i was kicked out of here three months before she came along.’
the fatuous expression of good nature on his face failed for a moment. then he went on lightly:
‘beautiful woman. but no subtlety. methods are rather crude, eh?’
poirot shrugged his shoulders.
‘it is possible.’
ronald looked at him curiously.
‘i believe you think she didn’t do it. so she’s got round you too, has she?’
‘i have a great admiration for beauty,’ said poirot evenly. ‘but also for – evidence.’
he brought the last word out very quietly.
‘evidence?’ said the other sharply.
‘perhaps you do not know, lord edgware, that lady edgware was at a party at chiswick last night at the time she was supposed to have been seen here.’
ronald swore.
‘so she went after all! how like a woman! at six o’clock she was throwing her weight about, declaring that nothing on earth would make her go, and i suppose about ten minutes after she’d changed her mind! when planning a murder never depend upon a woman doing what she says she’ll do. that’s how the best-laid plans of murder gang agley. no, m. poirot, i’m not incriminating myself. oh, yes, don’t think i can’t read what’s passing through your mind. who is the natural suspect? the well-known wicked ne’er-do-weel nephew.’
he leaned back in his chair chuckling.
‘i’m saving your little grey cells for you, m. poirot. no need for you to hunt round for someone who saw me in the offing when aunt jane was declaring she never, never, never would go out that night, etc. i was there. so you ask yourself did the wicked nephew in very truth come here last night disguised in a fair wig and a paris hat?’
seemingly enjoying the situation, he surveyed us both. poirot, his head a little on one side, was regarding him with close attention. i felt rather uncomfortable.
‘i had a motive – oh! yes, motive admitted. and i’m going to give you a present of a very valuable and significant piece of information. i called to see my uncle yesterday morning. why? to ask for money. yes, lick your lips over that. to ask for money. and i went away without getting any. and that same evening – that very same evening – lord edgware dies. good title that, by the way. lord edgware dies. look well on a bookstall.’
he paused. still poirot said nothing.
‘i’m really flattered by your attention, m. poirot. captain hastings looks as though he had seen a ghost – or were going to see one any minute. don’t get so strung up, my dear fellow. wait for the anti-climax. well, where were we? oh! yes, case against the wicked nephew. guilt is to be thrown on the hated aunt by marriage. nephew, celebrated at one time for acting female parts, does his supreme histrionic effort. in a girlish voice he announces himself as lady edgware and sidles past the butler with mincing steps. no suspicions are aroused. “jane,” cries my fond uncle. “george,” i squeak. i fling my arms about his neck and neatly insert the penknife. the next details are purely medical and can be omitted. exit the spurious lady. and so to bed at the end of a good day’s work.’
he laughed, and rising, poured himself out another whisky and soda. he returned slowly to his chair.
‘works out well, doesn’t it? but you see, here comes the crux of the matter. the disappointment! the annoying sensation of having been led up the garden. for now, m. poirot, we come to the alibi!’
he finished off his glass.
‘i always find alibis very enjoyable,’ he remarked. ‘whenever i happen to be reading a detective story i sit up and take notice when the alibi comes along. this is a remarkably good alibi. three strong, and jewish at that. in plainer language, mr, mrs and miss dortheimer. extremely rich and extremely musical. they have a box in covent garden. into that box they invite young men with prospects. i, m. poirot, am a young man with prospects – as good a one, shall we say, as they can hope to get. do i like the opera? frankly, no. but i enjoy the excellent dinner in grosvenor square first, and i also enjoy an excellent supper somewhere else afterwards, even if i do have to dance with rachel dortheimer and have a stiff arm for two days afterwards. so you see, m. poirot, there you are. when uncle’s lifeblood is flowing, i am whispering cheerful nothings into the diamond encrusted ears of the fair (i beg her pardon, dark) rachel in a box at covent garden. her long jewish nose is quivering with emotion. and so you see, m. poirot, why i can afford to be so frank.’
he leaned back in his chair.
‘i hope i have not bored you. any question to ask?’
‘i can assure you that i have not been bored,’ said poirot. ‘since you are so kind, there is one little question that i would like to ask.’
‘delighted.’
‘how long, lord edgware, have you known miss carlotta adams?’
whatever the young man had expected, it certainly had not been this. he sat up sharply with an entirely new expression on his face.
‘why on earth do you want to know that? what’s that got to do with what we’ve been talking about?’
‘i was curious, that was all. for the other, you have explained so fully everything there is to explain that there is no need for me to ask questions.’
ronald shot a quick glance at him. it was almost as though he did not care for poirot’s amiable acquiescence. he would, i thought, have preferred him to be more suspicious.
‘carlotta adams? let me see. about a year. a little more. i got to know her last year when she gave her first show.’
‘you knew her well?’
‘pretty well. she’s not the sort of girl you ever got to know frightfully well. reserved and all that.’
‘but you liked her?’
ronald stared at him.
‘i wish i knew why you were so interested in the lady. was it because i was with her the other night? yes, i like her very much. she’s sympathetic – listens to a chap and makes him feel he’s something of a fellow after all.’
poirot nodded.
‘i comprehend. then you will be sorry.’
‘sorry? what about?’
‘that she is dead!’
‘what?’ ronald sprang up in astonishment. ‘carlotta dead?’
he looked absolutely dumbfounded by the news.
‘you’re pulling my leg, m. poirot. carlotta was perfectly well the last time i saw her.’
‘when was that?’ asked poirot quickly.
‘day before yesterday, i think. i can’t remember.’
‘tout de même, she is dead.’
‘it must have been frightfully sudden. what was it? a street accident?’
poirot looked at the ceiling.
‘no. she took an overdose of veronal.’
‘oh! i say. poor kid. how frightfully sad.’
‘n’est ce pas?’
‘i am sorry. and she was getting on so well. she was going to get her kid sister over and had all sorts of plans. dash it. i’m more sorry than i can say.’
‘yes,’ said poirot. ‘it is sad to die when you are young – when you do not want to die – when all life is open before you and you have everything to live for.’
ronald looked at him curiously. ‘i don’t think i quite get you, m. poirot.’
‘no?’
poirot rose and held out his hand.
‘i express my thoughts – a little strongly, perhaps. for i do not like to see youth deprived of its right to live, lord edgware. i feel – very strongly about it. i wish you good-day.’
‘oh – er – good-bye.’
he looked rather taken aback.
as i opened the door i almost collided with miss carroll.
‘ah! m. poirot, they told me you hadn’t gone yet. i’d like a word with you if i may. perhaps you wouldn’t mind coming up to my room?
‘it’s about that child, geraldine,’ she said when we had entered her sanctum and she had closed the door.
‘yes, mademoiselle?’
‘she talked a lot of nonsense this afternoon. now don’t protest. nonsense! that’s what i call it and that’s what it was. she broods.’
‘i could see that she was suffering from over-strain,’ said poirot gently.
‘well – to tell the truth – she hasn’t had a very happy life. no, one can’t pretend she has. frankly, m. poirot, lord edgware was a peculiar man – not the sort of man who ought to have had anything to do with the upbringing of children. quite frankly, he terrorized geraldine.’
poirot nodded.
‘yes, i should imagine something of the kind.’
‘he was a peculiar man. he – i don’t quite know how to put it – but he enjoyed seeing anyone afraid of him. it seemed to give him a morbid kind of pleasure.’
‘quite so.’
‘he was an extremely well-read man, and a man of considerable intellect. but in some ways – well, i didn’t come across that side of him myself, but it was there. i’m not really surprised his wife left him. this wife, i mean. i don’t approve of her, mind. i’ve no opinion of that young woman at all. but in marrying lord edgware she got all and more than she deserved. well, she left him – and no bones broken, as they say. but geraldine couldn’t leave him. for a long time he’d forget all about her, and then, suddenly, he’d remember. i sometimes think – though perhaps i shouldn’t say it –’
‘yes, yes. mademoiselle, say it.’
‘well, i sometimes thought he revenged himself on the mother – his first wife – that way. she was a gentle creature, i believe, with a very sweet disposition. i’ve always been sorry for her. i shouldn’t have mentioned all this, m. poirot, if it hadn’t been for that very foolish outburst of geraldine’s just now. things she said – about hating her father – they might sound peculiar to anyone who didn’t know.’
‘thank you very much, mademoiselle. lord edgware, i fancy, was a man who would have done much better not to marry.’
‘much better.’
‘he never thought of marrying for a third time?’
‘how could he? his wife was alive.’
‘by giving her her freedom he would have been free himself.’
‘i should think he had had enough trouble with two wives as it was,’ said miss carroll grimly.
‘so you think there would have been no question of a third marriage. there was no one? think, made-moiselle. no one?’
miss carroll’s colour rose.
‘i cannot understand the way you keep harping on the point. of course there was no one.’
第十三章 侄儿
新任的埃奇韦尔男爵眼睛很尖。他注意到我看到他时略微吃惊的表情。
“啊！您想起来了吗？”他友善地说道，“在我婶子，简的小宴会上，我多喝了点，是不是？但我想别人是看不出来的。”
波洛正在向杰拉尔丁。马什和卡罗尔小姐告别。
“我跟你们一起下去。”罗纳德爽快地说。
他于是领着我们下了楼。边走边谈。
“人的一生——真是怪事。今天被踢了出去，明天又成了主人。你们知道，三年前，我那位刚死去的叔叔将我逐出门去。他的死有谁会悲哀呢？波洛先生，我想您大概知道这一切的。”
“是的——我听人提起过那事。”波洛平静地回答道。
“自然啦，像那样的事一定会被翻出来的，热心的侦探先生是不会错过这个机会的。”
他冽嘴笑了。
然后他打开了餐厅的门。
“走之前再喝一杯吧。”
波洛谢绝了。我也一样。但是年轻人给自己调了一杯酒，继续说下去。
“为谋杀干杯。”他高兴地说道，“只短短一夜的工夫，我本来是个让债主摇头的穷小子，摇身一变成了商人们争取的对象。昨天还穷困潦倒，而今成了富翁。上帝保佑我的婶婶，简。”
他喝干了一杯，然后稍稍改变了态度与波洛说话。
“不过，说正经的，波洛先生，您在这儿做什么？四天之前我的婶子简还在念台词般地说，‘谁能替我除掉这个蛮横的暴君？’现在，请看她已经除去了她的眼中钉！我想不是由您代办的吧？恐怕是从前当过侦探的波洛一手包办的周密谋杀案。”
波洛笑了。
“我今天下午来是因为杰拉尔丁。马什小姐写了封信让我来的。”
“一个谨慎的回答，呃？不，波洛先生，您到底在这里做什么？不管是什么原因，您好像对我叔叔的死很感兴趣。”
“埃奇韦尔男爵，我一向对谋杀案感兴趣的。”
“但是，您不会去杀人的，您是很谨慎小心的。您应该教简婶子如何小心才对。小心。外加一点伪装。您得原谅我称她简婶子。我觉得很有趣。您记得那天晚上我叫她时，她那张毫无表情的面孔吗？她根本不知道我是谁。”
“真的吗？”
“是的。她来这里三个月之前，我就被逐出了家门。”
他脸上那种好脾气的傻劲暂时不见了，他又轻松地说了下去。
“她是一位漂亮女人，但不够精细。她的手法有些粗糙，是不是？”
波洛耸了耸肩。
“可能是的。”
罗纳德好奇地望着他。
“我以为您不会认定是她干的。她把您也蒙得团团转，是不是？”
“我对美丽是很崇尚的，”波洛平静地说，“但我对证据亦如此。”
他说后面的话时很缓慢。
“证据？”罗纳德猛然问道。
“埃奇韦尔男爵，大概不知道，有人以为她在这里的时候，正在齐西克的宴会上。”
罗纳德骂了一句。
“原来她还是去了。她真是一个不折不扣的女人。六点钟的时候，还说她无论如何不能去呢，恐怕十分钟后就改了主意。当计划谋杀时，万不要信赖一个女人会做她要做的事。谋杀计划再周全也会出问题，是因为这个原因。不过，洛先生，并非自投罗网。唤！是的。别以为我没看透您心里想什么呢。谁是当然的嫌疑犯？就是那个不务正业的坏侄儿。”
他靠在椅子上格格直笑。
“波洛先生，我替您省省脑筋吧。您不必调查简婶子说她绝对不会去赴宴的时候，究竟谁看到我在附近了。我是在那儿的。于是。您就会想，那个坏侄子会不会在昨天晚上戴上渴色的假发和巴黎帽来到这里？”
他似乎很满意这种情形，同时留意观察着我们两个人。波洛倾着他的头，也在仔细地观察着他。我感觉很不自在。
“我也有我的动机——噢！是的，我曾认为我有。我要给你一条很有价值的重要情报，我昨天上午去见了我的叔叔。为什么呢？向他要钱。是的，您可以窃喜了。去要钱。我一分未弄到，失望地走了。后来，在同一天晚上——完全同一天晚上——埃奇韦尔男爵死了。说起来，这倒是个好标题。埃奇韦尔男爵死亡。在书店里一定看好。”
他停了下来。但波洛仍然一言不发。
“波洛先生，承蒙您看得起我。黑斯廷斯上尉听我的话像见了鬼似的。朋友。不用太紫张。听听故事的高潮之处吧。晤，我们说到哪儿了？噢！对了，这案子对坏侄儿不利。他要将罪过推到那位可恨的婶婶身上。那个侄儿曾一度以扮演女性角色而闻名。现在又一次大显身手了。他装出女人的声音自称是埃奇韦尔夫人，然后模仿着女人走路的姿势从管家面前侧身而过，结果没有引起疑心。我那慈爱的叔叔叫了一声“简”，我尖叫一声“乔治”，然后拽住他的脖子，将刀插了进去。其余的细节完全是医学上的，可以略去不讲了。那个伪装的女人出去了。一切大功告成，可以回去睡觉了。”
他哈哈大笑着站起来，又给自己倒了一杯威士忌加苏打水，然后慢慢踱到座位旁。
“计划很成功，是不是？但是您知道，我们就要谈这件事中困难的一部分了。那就是失望的情绪。那种被引人极为满意状态后的失落感。因为现在，波洛先生，我们谈到不在现场的证据了。”
他将酒一饮而尽。
“我始终觉得不在现场的证据是很有意思的。”他说道，“我读侦探小说的时候，总爱熬夜，为的是看到什么时候有嫌疑犯不在现场的证据出现。这一次能证明我不在现场的证据很充分。光是证人就有三个。再明白不过地说，您可以找多赛默夫妇和小姐询问。他们昆富有。而且喜欢听音乐。他们经常在科文特加登大戏院订包厢，专门请有望继承遗产的年轻人去听戏。波洛先生，我就是这种类型的年轻人啊——我们可不可以这样说，我就是他们要找的类型。至于说我喜不喜欢歌剧呢？坦白地说，不喜欢。但我喜欢先去格罗夫诺：“场去吃一顿上等的晚餐，散戏以后，再去别处吃顿丰盛的宵夜，即使不得不陪着雷切尔。多赛默跳舞，累得胳膊两天都抬不起来。所以波洛先生，我的不在现场证据就在这。当我叔叔鲜血涌出的时候，我正在包厢里，依偎在白皙漂亮（恕我失言，她有点黑）的雷切尔身旁，在她那戴着钻石的耳畔低声细语地讲着无意义的话呢。她那长长的犹太式的鼻子正激动地颤动着。波洛先生，现在您明白我为什么这样坦诚了吧？”
他坐靠在椅子上。
“我希望没有让您厌烦了。还有什么问题要问吗？”
“我可以向您保证，我一点也没厌烦。”波洛说，“您既然如此帮忙，我倒有一个小问题想问问你。”
“很高兴效劳。”
“埃奇韦尔男爵，您认识卡洛塔·亚当斯小姐有多长时间了？”
很显然，那个年轻人没想到波洛会问这个问题。他突然坐了起来，脸上的表情迎然不同了。
“您到底为什么要问这些？这与我们刚才所谈的事有什么关系？”
“我只是好奇而己。另外，您已经把要说的话完全说清楚了，我没有必要问什么问题了。”
罗纳德迅速地看了一眼波洛。对于波洛的和蔼表情，他根本不在意。我倒觉得他很疑心。
“卡洛塔·亚当斯？让我想想。大约一年前，或者更早些。去年她第一次登台时，我认识了她。”
“您和她很熟吗？”
“相当熟。不过她不是那种可以让人非常熟悉的女人。譬如，她很谨慎等等。”
“但您喜欢她，是不是？”
罗纳德望着他。
“我想知道您为什么对这位女士感兴趣。是因为那天晚上我和她在一起吗？是的，我很喜欢她。她很有同情心——肯耐心地听人讲话。并且让你觉得自己毕竟还有点价值。”
波洛点点头。
“这个我理解。那么您可能要悲哀了。”
“悲哀？为什么？”
“那位女孩死了。”
“什么？”罗纳德——下惊讶地跳了起来，“卡洛塔死了。”
他听了这个消息惊呆了。
“波洛先生，您在开玩笑吧？我上次见她还好好的呢。”
“那是在什么时候？”波洛快速地问道。
“我想是前天。我不记得了。”
“可还是，她死了。”
“那一定是突如其来的。她是怎么死的？是车祸吗？”
波洛望着天花板。
“不是，是服了过量的安眠药。”
“啊！真是，可怜的孩子！多悲惨啊。”
“这难道不是吗？”
“我很难过。她一切都好好的。她还打算把她的小妹妹接来，还有很多美好的计划。他妈的，我真是太难过了，我筒直无法用语言来形容了。”
“是的。”波洛说，“一个人年纪轻轻的就死去了。实在够惨的一在你还不想死去的时候——在人生的幸福大道展现在你面前，还有好多值得做的事的时候。”
罗纳德迷惑地瞅着他。
“波洛先生，我好像没明白您的意思。”
“没明白？”
波洛接着说道：“我表述自己的想法，也许口气太重了。因为我不想看到年轻人失去生的权力。埃奇韦尔男爵，我这种想法很强烈。再见。”
“呃——再见！”
他显得很吃惊。
我开门的时候，几乎与卡罗尔小姐撞个满怀。
“啊！波洛先生，他们说您还没走。如果可以的话，我想和您谈谈。来我的房间，您不介意吧？”
“是关于那个孩子，杰拉尔丁。”我们走进她的卧室，她关上房门后说道。
“怎么了？女士？”
“她今天下午说了很多无聊的话，您不用先反驳我。是的，无聊的话！我叫它无聊的话，事实上确实是无聊。她一直愁眉不展。”
“我看得出，她实在是过于紧张的缘故。”波洛温和地说。
“晤——说实话——她的生活并不快乐。实在是这样的，我们不能假装她是快乐的。坦白地讲，波洛先生，埃奇韦尔男爵是个很古怪的人——并不注重教养子女。再坦白地讲，他只是让女儿惧怕他。”
波洛点点头。
“是的。我可以想象得出。”
“他是一个怪人。他——我不知道该怎么说——他喜欢看到别人怕他。好像那会给他带来一种病态的快感。”
“很正确。”
“他书看得非常的多，是个相当聪明的人。但在某些方面——我本人并未直接遇到，他是有些怪。他的妻子离开他，我并不奇怪。我是说第二任妻子。您要知道，我不赞成她。我不喜欢那类女人。与埃奇韦尔男爵结婚，她所得到的，比她该得到的多得多。但她还是离开了他——按一般人说来，是毫无损伤地离开了他。但杰拉尔丁无法离开他。他有好长一段时间，早把她忘掉了。后来他又突然记起了她。我有时候觉得——我想也许我不该说——”
“说吧，女士，说出来。”
“好吧。我有时候在想他是通过那种办法，报复她母亲——他的前妻。她是一个很温和的女人，我想，举止很优雅，我一向替她难过。波洛先生，我本不该提这个的。要不是刚才杰拉尔丁突然说那些傻话。我是不会提这个的。她所说的——关于恨她父亲的话——要是不了解内情的人，听了也许觉得奇怪。”
“多谢，女士。我想，要是埃奇韦尔男爵不结婚就好了。”
“是啊、那就好多了。”
“他没有想过第三次结婚吗？”
“那怎么可能呢？他的太太还活得好好的呢！”
“但给了她自由，他自己也就自由了。”
卡罗尔小姐冷冷地说：“照过去的情形，两任太太已经够他烦恼的了。”
“所以您认为他不会再第三汰结婚了？他没有人选吗？想想看，女士，真的没有吗？”
卡罗尔小姐的脸涨红了。
“我不明白您为什么重复这一点。当然没有。”